The Not So Foreign People

In a land too close to be discovered was a civilization of hard working people, all predisposed to employing themselves for long hours without a break. In this land everyone could be found in some occupation, even if it wasn’t what could be considered glorious or enjoyable. The work was tough, but some found that with the little help of a mysterious, foreign ichor they could work with greater efficiency than ever before. It was a thick, black, pungent smelling fluid that resembled toxic sludge. There were many ways the people used the ichor. Some of them ingested it, others injected it, and still others absorbed it in through the skin. Everyone developed their own preference as the word spread of this amazing ichor.

Soon all the people were using it. So all was well, production was booming and the people were feeling the most fulfilled they ever had. However, this didn’t last forever. Eventually, people became lethargic and sick, too tired to complete anything. Some people succumbed quicker than others, but everyone eventually fell. With everyone ill, production came to a grinding halt. Blame was placed on this mysterious chemical and people quickly sought to purge every little bit of it from their bodies. Everyone had their own way of doing this. Some people spat out the vile stuff, vomiting until all that was left was bile. Others managed to get out through the pores like sweat or from the eyes like tears. Still others drew directly from their blood by slicing themselves along the extremities.

Time passed, work productivity steadied, and for a while no one dared get near the nasty ichor. However, soon the discoverers of the substance began experimenting with it in private. If they had drawn it from their bodies and been cured, then perhaps they could control it. They began ingesting it, injecting it, and absorbing it again, but before it could have any ill effect, they released it from their body in their own ways. Once again the ichor began to catch on. The people all wanted to improve their work and were no longer daunted by the potential harms. They could simply avoid them with proper moderation. Their culture slowly bent and adjusted to include this ichor as a major part of it.

The methods of intake evolved as well although it stayed the same in basic concepts. It became commonplace to see people in public and at work chewing and spitting the thick, putrid substance like tobacco, or  injecting into their veins with the use of specialized hypodermic needles and bleeding out the black, stinking stuff in the bathroom. During the day you could see people running or lifting weights as a dark, thick sweat collected on their brows and stained their clothes. In these ways the people tried to tame the ichor and push themselves to their limits. Not everyone was perfect at this though. There were some who, in an attempt to work even harder for longer would hold in the ichor until it wore on them. They wouldn’t remove it and it would steadily build up until the person would crash. At this point they would need to remove it all at once in one big wave. Those of these people who ingested and chewed the substance would go into vociferous and aggressive fits spitting out the pure and deadly venom in a thick stream covering everything and everyone in their vicinity with the volatile vomit. The people who had absorbed in the ichor would break into tears; violently bawling out the burning waterfall of ichor in a crippled choking state barely able to catch a breath between wheezes. The folk who injected the stuff would become severely depressed and frantic. In these substance crashes and moments of irrationality they would slit their wrists deep and bleed out the substance

. Despite cases like this, the mysterious substance wasn’t banned; it wasn’t even looked down upon. People who couldn’t handle it were simply lesser and the people who chose to misuse it were simply stupid. So, society moved on, production increased, and use of the ichor became the norm. After a year had passed almost no one could remember back to when they hadn’t used the mysterious substance. In fact, they were surprised that they had yet to name it. A ballot was drawn up and votes were cast in the few minutes or so of free time. Once all the votes were counted the name was announced, Angor, by a landslide victory. As time moved on the name would change more than once and even be passed on to other civilizations along with the angor itself. Eventually, all civilizations would know of it and everyone would learn to take it, each by their own means, and incorporate it into their own lives. So, in the end it was not so exotic or foreign after all.


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